EROTICA:SHORT STORIES TABOO SEX ROMANCE BUNDLE DIRTY GROUP BOOKS (Menage MM Rough Gay BDSM Lesbian Foursome Stepdaddy Threesome Stepbrother Milf Daddy

by CELENE CAREY

“No, Sir,” she replied.

  “Louder!”

  “No, Sir, I do not think I am at a day spa, Sir!” she yelled.

  “What else do you have to say about your spanking?”

  “Thank you, Sir! You are too kind! I deserved it. I am a whore.”

  “Kind you say? I’ll show you fucking kind!”

  I grabbed a hold of her ponytail to restrain her, picked her up, and forcefully held her down to the bed. Grabbing the rope and bar I restrained both hands to each side of her shoulders, bringing the rope loosely around her neck, shoulders, and beneath her breast and back. I fastened it, and she’s locked into position. If she strains she’ll choke herself… perfect. Smiling to myself, I pull her up by her shoulders to standing, then push her to her knees. I step back and remove my underwear. My dick stands firmly at attention above her down-turned head; I sit on the edge of the bed, spreading my legs.

  “Suck it.”

  With those two words, she turns and looks at my dick, as if she hasn’t seen it before. She looked in awe of the bulging veins and swollen head. I was so hard my dick could slice through anything. Seeking me out with her mouth, she slowly ran her tongue along my shaft, causing it to jump in anticipation. Getting to the tip, she took me into her hot mouth and I already felt like I wanted to drain my scrotum inside her. She was good at it. I eased back on my elbows to watch her do her best; she had missed me. I tilted my head back, relishing the pleasure as she sucked hard and bobbed her head up and down my erect tool, her warm lips wrapped tightly around my rod. If she would use her hands to assist her, this would be better. Eager to dive into her awaiting wet cunt, I held her head firmly in place, cutting off her air. Listening to her gag was very entertaining. She stirred, straining against the rope and choking herself. I wasn’t worried about her neck; she didn’t bruise easily. Dragging my cock from her deep throat I pushed my middle, index, and ring finger into her mouth, “Suck them.”

  She did. I pulled her up by her top row of teeth and threw her onto the big bed. With her ass up like that I couldn’t resist the urge to grope her. While I grope her left ass cheek, I slap the right firmly, feeling it ripple beneath my firm palm. She has a great ass. Hurriedly, I arm myself with latex and turn back to her perched ass. Grabbing both cheeks I slowly spread her open to have a better look at her pussy. I could see her moisture on her inner thighs. She wasn’t the best tasting pussy, but she had one of the best looking pussies I had ever seen. I rubbed her clit slowly, realizing just how soaked she’d been all along.

  “I’ve been kind to you! What do you say?”

  “Thank you, Sir!” she muffled with her face crumpled against the sheets.

  “Fuck me, Sir. Please.”

  I snicker to myself; her voice was tear-filled but I knew she wanted the dick.

  “What did you say? I’m sorry… I can’t hear you, speak up!”

  By now I was fingering her warm pussy and I could feel her walls clenching my finger. She was ready for me.

  “I want you to fuck me in my pussy, Sir, please! I want it so bad...”

  With one hard and forceful thrust, I shove my dick deep inside her womb. I buried myself to the hilt, basking in the scream I was rewarded with. I nested there for a while, thought of Veronica, imagined this was her pussy, and my dick hardened even more than I would possibly have imagined. Claire was still. I knew she loved feeling me stretch her walls and brace against spots Adam didn’t know existed and probably never would. I could feel her first orgasm building up. Her pussy choked me tightly, but I wasn’t ready just yet. Pulling out of her wasn’t easy; I had to thrust myself deeper, where it would really hurt, for her to relax and let me go. In again, I slowly circulated my cock deep inside her, listening to the musical hum of pleasure playing from her lips. Changing my tempo, I sped up, ravishing her depths, faster and harder, feeling her ass against me as I bounce in and out of her pussy. I felt her ass cheeks clench as she screamed my name at the top of her voice, shivering, drowning my dick in her juices. Almost close to the edge, I withdraw and discard the condom, dragging her up and forcing her to her knees.

  “You’re such a dirty whore. I’m going to give you just what you want!”

  I grasp my shaft, pounding my dick, pumping it tightly; four more strokes and I cum all over her face and outstretched tongue. With images of Veronica gagged and bound to my bed, legs apart, flicking in my mind, I came hard.

  Claire was always eager to swallow.

  BOOK 52

  Controlling Her 2

  Older Man Younger Girl Short Reads Series

  Dominated Unprotected Bare & Fertile Taking

  Kilie Sams

  To view other books by Publisher on Amazon CLICK HERE

  EXCERPT from – CONTROLLING HER 2

  “You’re late, now I have to skip the pleasantries and get straight to what you came for,” he said holding up his palm that had indicated I stopped.

  “I’m sorry but...” I had begun to figment an excuse but he cut me off mid way.

  “I don’t care about your excuse Veronica, step closely to me and kiss me on the cheek.”

  Was he serious? I did it anyways to get my first whiff of his Dun Hill Desire, yes; he definitely smelt all the sexy he looked. As my lips slowly grazed his cheek I felt his hand swiftly slid up my skirt and he pinched my clit.

  “What the fuck!” I rarely swore aloud mostly in my head and during sex. My voice was barely a whisper, clutching my purse armed with my pepper spray, I stepped back. “Listen to me Mr. Hilton, I don’t know who you think you are or what kind of girl you think I am but I’m not that type of chick” I had said in my defence folding my arms over my chest to hide my erected nipples. He had only chuckled, and licked his finger slowly between his side swept grin.

  “I didn’t ask you a question because I knew you would lie, you don’t have the first clue about what kind of “chick” you are as yet, but I’m going to show you, like I said I’m skipping the pleasantries, your late you lost that privilege anything you wanted to talk about you lost that as well, what you are going to do though, is go to the restroom and wash your hands and then go into the utility closet and kneel in the darkness. And Veronica before you ask me if I’m insane or ask yourself why in the world you would follow my instructions, the answer is simple...” he paused and I felt myself holding on to his every word, because I had no clue myself

  “It’s the very same reason you aren’t wearing any underwear”

  I don’t know when exactly I had become a Venus Fly Trap but having my mouth hanging open seemed to have become a new habit. His eyes glistened at my O shaped lips and the shock in my eyes. What was I embarrassed about? That he was right and I was ignoring the obvious? Or that I was walking towards the restroom as he instructed by now? I looked at myself in the mirror and I didn’t recognize the face looking back at me, I looked flustered hot and bothered. But still hot, I had to hand it to myself. Looking possibly as guilty as a cat burglar caught in the wire of his first break in; I looked around to see if anyone was watching me enter the utility closet; No one, they were either busy ordering or tucked into a chair nursing their coco or coffee reading the newspaper, a book or on their cell phone. Closing the door behind me I refused the urge to search for the light switch... I knelt as the tang of multiple detergents, bleaches, soaps and polishes flooded my nose.

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  Copyright 2015 Hardcore Erotica Stories

  Published by Hardcore Erotica Stories

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  First HARDCORE EROTICA STORIES Printing April 2015

 
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  ~

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure inventions of fiction.

  Table of Content

  Chapter One

  Good Things...

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  One Mississippi, Two

  Chapter Four

  Live a little

  Chapter One

  Good Things...

  Veronica Blair

  What had happened between him and I, almost complete strangers, was abnormal. Wasn’t it?

  I remembered being an ordinary girl. Of course, that was a few years ago. My last memory of normality was my 14th birthday. Being an only child I was spoiled and my party included everything a girl my age could want: cotton candy machines, popcorn machines, bounce-A-bouts, water slides, you name it, it was all there. My mom made up for her lack of time with material things and, approaching teen-hood, that was fine with me. My dad was never the emotional type. If he hugged me. it would feel like hugging a cactus; that is how awkward and ridiculous it would be. But hey, what family didn’t have its issues? I knew my parents loved me, they just had a hard time showing it, emotionally.

  It used to confuse me what love was. I grew up thinking love meant fear, restraint, and restriction. That’s how I saw it. I was raised to believe it was because of love that my father had been nothing but the whip in my life and that my mother’s love for him restrained her from speaking up. Maybe it was then that I developed my abnormalities, but at such a tender age how could I have imagined?

  So, was I just an abnormal girl leading a normal life? I sat back, legs propped up on my centre table, lazing in my living room with the TV on but not watching anything. Reflection usually led to writing, but I hadn’t been writing much lately. Truth is, I think I am lacking in the inspiration category. I was tired of starting poems and not being able to finish them. When I think about it, maybe my life has gone to normal, so normal it might be considered boring. Routine: go to work, come home, straight to bed if I had a heavy lunch, if not, stop at Raymar’s, read and munch on whatever special it is, then home to either an empty bed or to Jonathan. Sex? Sometimes... if I’m lucky. He is either too busy writing or not as excited. Other women would be happy with a boyfriend dedicated to his job but who loves you just as much, even if he’s not the most thrilling lover. Me? Abnormal me? Not as, what’s the word I’m looking for? Pleased? Yes, not as pleased to have a schedule, the same thing day after day. But, truth is, boring tie and glasses wearing as he is, I love him. Love sustains all things…doesn’t it?

  This was silly; I had nothing better to do than sit down and criticise a relationship that worked so well. One that I ought to be grateful for. I began to browse, flipping through channel after channel, until I heard the cordless ringing. I was almost excited, then I remembered it was Wednesday; mother usually calls on a Wednesday afternoon. Lucinda was a soft heart; for sure I knew she loved her only daughter. She had a hard time showing it, but indeed she tried. I appreciated that she tried, unlike my father, Mark. Mark Blair was a man of firm beliefs. I found it hard to understand how my mother, such a soft woman, found herself married and pregnant with a Sergeant who could never differentiate between work and home. I picked it up and without looking at the receiver uttered a lazy, “Hi, mom.”

  “Kay Kay!”

  Her voice had a bluebird ring to it, or maybe it was the way her mixed Australian and American dialect sounded together. I smiled though I hated when she called me that, as if she had always done so.

  “What’s up?”

  “Nothing. I was just saying to your father that it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you! How’s work? Last time we spoke you had a trainee you said? Suzette, her name was?”

  I could hear her in the kitchen, faucet running, pans clicking. Wednesdays she made chicken parmesan, one of my favourites as a child, and it made her think about me, hence the Wednesday phone calls.

  “Work is stress, as always, and her name is Sophia. She’s a sweet girl. We have had lunch once or twice.”

  I sighed. At the end of the financial year, working at an accounting firm is the worst job you could have. Thankfully, Lawson and Jones had done well for themselves in business last year and could afford to expand and hire new staff. This audit season I was responsible for training a young woman named Sophia. She was a fast learner that pleased me well. I didn’t go into the fine details with mom; she tended to draw conversations out once she got hold of a topic.

  “My trainee is doing absolutely well, but management is trying to get me to do a double target and I’m not up for it. I’m functioning only as a trainer this season and I’m putting my foot down.”

  Mom giggled. I doubt she took me seriously; after all, I do love my job. Not more than writing, but I do love it and it pays the bills.

  “That’s great to hear darling. Oh, your father says ‘hi.’”

  Did he? I doubted it. For all I knew, Mr. Blair was in some other room reading the paper.

  “Tell him ‘hi’ back,” I tried hiding the scepticism in my voice, but mothers always know.

  “He loves you, Veronica, and you know it.”

  Silence.

  “So how is Jonathan?” she changed the topic, knowing I had no comment regardless.

  “Jonny is fine, being a sweetheart as usual, but he’s off in Westmoreland covering a story. He should be back in a week I think,” I said, trying not to give a sense of my discomfort. Mommy used to always think that Jonathan acted a little too stuck-up.

  “He thinks he was born with a golden spoon in his mouth?” she had asked in her fading Australian accent. She had been completely Americanized by moving to California and marrying my father.

  “That’s good to hear, my love. I see you two going to the altar and giving me and old Mark some grandkids to spoil.”

  Mom could say the darnest things. It’s not like I haven’t thought about it; after all, Jonathan and I have been together since I left college, though he was three years ahead of me. What girl doesn’t want that happy ending? But Jonny and I have never had the marriage conversation. He’d probably be too nervous to ever ask. However, our friends keep expecting me to either say “I’m pregnant” or “we’re getting married.” Living together for three years can mean that to other couples, but Jonny and I were just taking things very easy. We were young and in no rush.

  “Mom, you know you’d be the first person, apart from Becky- who might witness the proposal- to know.”

  She giggled again… good mood?

  “How is the old man doing? Isn’t your anniversary coming up?”

  “Kay Kay! I thought Mark remembered. Sharon told Suzy, who told Karlene, that she saw him go into Beverly’s Jewellery Store three days ago. I really hope it’s a bracelet; I saw one I had my eyes on and your father would probably pick it for me. After all these years, he still knows me. Hard to believe, isn’t it?” She went off in her strained dialect.

  Yes, it was a little hard for me to believe. The man knew nothing about me and I’m sure mom was the only one who chose my gifts when I was growing up.

  “That’s very good to know mom. I don’t think I could handle you being sad if he forgot again.”

  “I think he learned his lesson the last time, Veronica. I almost killed the man!” Mom squealed as I recalled her calling me frantic last year, saying dad was going to be a dead man. Her petite body couldn’t do a thing, you’d think, but mom was a fireball. She almost took dad’s eye out. How? I have no clue, seeing that I got my height from him and she’s a very small woman.

  “Please, mother, if he forgets don’t kill him. One day I might actually need a parent. One can’t be dead and the other incarcerated. Plus, you aren’t as young as you once were; keep your blood pressure down!” I ge
nuinely laughed thinking about my tiny mom angrily trying to fight my dad.

  In a very sarcastic tone she replied, “I’ll never be too old to put old Mark in his place.”

  I loved that most; my mom was still very much happy and in love with the man she met and fell in love with 27 years ago. A man I never met and vaguely know now.

  “Mom, you are something else. Though it’s been a lovely chat, I got to go. Kiss daddy on the cheek for me.”

  “Sure dear, and I hope to see you soon. Don’t let all ma hairs grey before you come give me a visit. I’m not trying to look like Mrs. Clause by the time you get here.”

  “Sure old lady,” I said in a childish voice and hung up.

  I didn’t have much to do, or anything at all really, but talking about nothing isn’t really my style, at least not with my mom. Maybe I’ll go grab a bite. I wasn’t hungry, but staying home today wasn’t in my plans either. I’ll just go down to Ray’s and hope some inspiration finds me. I grabbed my purse and headed out the door, turning back for my book on the kitchen counter; poetry will forever be my first love.

  Chapter Two

  At Ray’s I found what might be my new inspiration. He was tall, almost roughed, not too soft. I don’t know what to make of what happened. “Mr. Hilton,” he had signed my book; who was he? He was light skinned. I usually like men a shade closer to purple. His chest was broad, too broad. Usually my men are slimmer. He had lazy eyes that looked intense just when he needed them to be. Bedroom McDreamy eyes... And he smiled like a humming bird, glorious and slick.

  Why had my body reacted the way it did to his very forward advances? Better yet, why did he leave my body ablaze? Why was I even considering letting him have me, or imagining all the things he might be capable off? This was too much. I had to see Jonathan soon, or get myself out of the mood he had left me in. Waiting on Jonathan to make love to me so I wouldn’t think of this stranger; how abnormal am I? How could I let a stranger touch me? Although, he didn’t even touch me. He looked, pulled my hair... Jonny never does that... I... I... liked it... and I needed relief.